


The Unseen

by hope_calaris



Series: Curiosity killed the cat (but not Tony Stark) [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 11:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/pseuds/hope_calaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint doesn't talk. Tony is bored. And Coulson doesn't even need to say anything. (for the "Listening to Heartbeat or Breathing" prompt in my Clint/Coulson bingo)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** My very first foray into the Avengers fandom. Please keep in mind that all I know about these characters is taken from the movies, ridiculous amounts of fanfic and the comic "Blind Spot". Thanks a lot to Red Tigress for her beta.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** The moment unicorns are real, I make money with this.

Clint is a lousy speaking partner.

Okay, that’s not true. Most of the time he is a snarky smartass who makes every mission infinitely more fun, has problems understanding the term ‘radio silence’ and drives Coulson up the wall. Tony is always in favor of people who make Coulson’s teeth clench.

So, okay, the problem is less Clint’s abilities to make Tony’s life more fun with his never ending commentary but more the fact that he isn’t talking right now. Which is fine, really, Tony wouldn’t expect anyone with a severe concussion and three broken ribs to be up and running, not to mention entertaining. But Tony is stuck with him, or better put, stuck in the same room as Clint, and he’s not exactly sure why. It’s not like he couldn’t press the ice bag against his swollen knee in his own office or in the general waiting area of SHIELD medical or anywhere, really, with people to talk to. Well, he could talk to an unconscious Clint, but they’re both not sentimental fools and although Tony distinctly remembers the panic that had gripped his heart (and yes, he does have a heart, arc reactor or not) after one of Justin Hammer’s way too big (and seriously, who needs robots four stories high?) and way too dumb machines decided to take a swing at the rooftop with Clint on it, this doesn’t warrant any unnecessary declarations of camaraderie. Clint is going to be fine according to the doctors. And it’s not like this is the worst they got banged up on one of their missions. There was this one mission to Estonia, when none of them actually remembered the way back. Tony even got out of the debriefings for that one, but mostly because it took him more than two weeks to become halfway coherent again. All the reports had been filled out by then.

So, there’s absolutely no reason to worry. Clint will be fine. Justin Hammer will continue to be a thorn in their side. Coulson will make Tony write three mission reports. It’s just another peachy day at the office. He’s bored and all the other Avengers are away on other missions, so nobody is actually here to talk to him, and the nurse forbade him to move for another hour (not that he usually listens to the medical staff around here, but that particular nurse is especially fond of Steve, and Tony really doesn’t want to have another talk about “taking care of yourself” and “be an adult for once in your life”). Tony is about ready to poke Clint in the side out of pure boredom.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” That’s Coulson’s voice, and Tony’s hand hovers about an inch away from Clint. He tries not to look like somebody caught in the act, and just knows from Coulson’s scowl that he’s failing miserably.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Washington?”

“Not anymore,” Coulson replies, hooks an ankle around the leg of a chair and drags it towards him to sit down on it.

“Okayyy.” Tony is a bit confused, but loath to actually admit it. Coulson doesn’t do house calls, and he sure as hell doesn’t sit down to hold hands with hurt Avengers. “Oh, c’mon, you’re not down here to tell me I have to hand in my report in two hours, are you?” he asks and maybe whines a bit. It’s his right, okay? He hurt his knee and surely there must be some kind of labor law protecting him from filing paper work when he’s been hurt on the job.

“You can hand it in tomorrow,” Coulson answers, and Tony is ready to make a fist bump when he realizes that he still doesn’t know why Coulson is here. They don’t do small talk, and all Clint is good for right now is to put people to sleep with his steady breathing.

“Thanks, I think.” Tony feels a tiny bit unsettled by all of this. Granted, Coulson can do silence with the best of them (and believe it or not, Clint actually is quite capable of prolonged stints of silence when the mission absolutely requires it, and Tony’s heard his hoarse voice on more than one occasion after he hadn’t said a word in more than three days), but this is somewhat eerie. Coulson doesn’t look at him and sits perfectly still, but Tony can’t shake the feeling that the other man actually wants to reach out and touch something … or someone. Someone who got hurt quite badly on their last mission and with whom they had lost radio contact for over twenty minutes.

Oh.

_Oh._

And Tony thought Coulson got all the joy in his life from paperwork, and Clint was perfectly happy with only his bow as company. God, there must be a well of innuendo in this. Tony starts to smirk.

“If your next sentence includes the words Cupid’s arrow and heart, I’m going to drown you in paperwork for the next hundred years and won’t look back,” Coulson says without batting an eyelash. Tony gulps audibly. Now he knows why somebody put “psychic” down as Coulson’s secret in SHIELD’s betting pool (All of them have secrets, and the bets are fun and good for morale. Although no one thought to bet on a secret relationship between their Head Agent and the Archer. It’s a shame, really, Tony could have made hundreds of bucks with this).  

“I’d never -- ”

“Please.” Coulson rolls his eyes at him, but then he focuses on Clint’s unconscious form again, and Tony can’t find it in him to make fun at him for that. He knows how it feels to worry and to be afraid and not being allowed to show it.

“He’s going to be okay, you know?” Tony says after a moment, his voice unusually gentle.

“I know,” Coulson says, but he doesn’t meet his eyes. “I took the liberty to inform Captain America that you’re relatively fine.”

“Oh,” is all Tony can say, and then, “I wouldn’t have said anything anyway. You don’t need leverage for this kind of thing.”

Coulson’s shoulder slump a bit at his words, and suddenly he looks exhausted. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m gonna go and talk to some nurses. You didn’t have to process any harassment complaints against me lately. Can’t let you think I’ve become an upstanding citizen all of a sudden.” He smiles and gets up. It hurts a bit, and the nurse will give him hell for not resting longer, but some things are more important than his knee. Giving Coulson some privacy so he can check on his lover, for example.

“Thanks again, Tony,” Coulson says when Tony’s halfway through the door. He turns around and sees Coulson’s hand resting on the uninjured half of Clint’s chest. Normally, Tony would feel compelled to say something really inappropriate or cheesy, but he just nods this time and closes the door behind himself.

There will be enough times when both Clint and Coulson are awake to listen to his _perfectly_ innocent remarks.

\- _fin_


End file.
